This is part four of a five part series. If you’ve missed the earlier posts, check out part one here, and read forward.
This was a hard post to write, because these are feelings I don’t want to feel. But they are real. Please don’t judge.
It’s no secret that I’ve desired a baby for a long time. I started baby-sitting when I was 12-years-old, and I loved those kids like my own. I wanted a large family, five or six kids. We waited until the timing was right, and then it took us 27 months to get pregnant.
When that pregnancy test was positive, I was happy! No doubt about it. But I was also nervous. A little nervous about the health of the baby- but a lot nervous about what it meant for our adoption.
I had six weeks of living on top of the world, when I was pregnant and feeling great and it didn’t seem our adoption would be affected.
Then of course, those dreams were crushed when we were told we couldn’t proceed with our adoption due to the pregnancy.
Emotionally, I am in a very weird state with this pregnancy. It is something I wanted so very badly. But it is causing me to lose something I wanted equally badly. There is joy, but there’s also a bit of resentment.
That was hard to type, but it’s true.
The me of two years ago would have slapped the me of today across the face. Two years ago, I remember being so annoyed with pregnant women who weren’t absolutely overjoyed about being pregnant. They didn’t know how good they had it.
I know how good I have it. I am thrilled about being pregnant. Please don’t misunderstand.
It’s just that it’s bittersweet.
It’s bittersweet because we lost the other children we loved. They were not a replacement for a biological child.
But it’s also bittersweet because it’s taking away from this pregnancy.
I want to look at my growing belly and feel pure, unadulterated joy. I want to decorate my baby’s nursery without first having to disassemble furniture I bought for kids I’ll never have. I want to look forward to my baby’s birth without thinking about what’s missing from the scene. I want to count the months of my baby’s first year without counting down the months until we can move forward with adoption.
Each happy moment has a twinge of pain. There is joy, but there is also loss.
After everything we’ve gone through to get to this point, that just doesn’t seem fair.